The wolf only thought of their true mate, even though they’d not met her, and who knew if he ever would? It was offensive to his beast to even think of being with another female. Dillon just wanted to survive. He didn’t care about any relationships. Caring about someone meant losing them would eventually be painful. He didn’t want to go through that again. Five years after his parents’ deaths, he could finally think about them without feeling raw. He missed them fiercely, but he didn’t feel like he was drowning anymore. He was actually beginning to have hope that maybe it wouldn’t always hurt so badly. Maybe someday he could be happy again.
By the time Dillon returned home to his camper, which he’d been living in for the past five years, he was exhausted. Not necessarily physically, but mentally. The constant stress of pretending that he was human, that he was no different from the people around him, wore on Dillon.
He pulled off his clothes and took a quick shower. Dillon didn’t like cooking, especially only for one person, so he made himself a protein shake. Even after all the time he’d been gone, he still hated eating alone. When he was with his pack, there was always someone to dine with, whether it was Colin, his parents, or eating at the alpha’s home, where many pack members gathered every night. Dillon missed that. He sighed, downed the drink, and then climbed into bed. He turned on a loud fan to drown out any noise that his wolf's hearing might detect. The beast in him was on constant alert because there were no other pack members around to have his back. He was a lone wolf without protection. And that kept his inner beast on edge.
Dillon flicked off the light and told his wolf to chill the hell out. Then he closed his eyes and hoped that he wouldn’t see his parents’ faces—the faces of them in death, lifeless and blank. They haunted him in his dreams. “Maybe tonight will be different,” he said, just as he did every night.
Fall 1990
Dillon stood watching as the casket was lowered into the waiting grave. He had been with Steve when he suffered the massive heart attack that took his life. Steve's wife had passed away a year earlier for no apparent reason, and her death had driven Steve crazy. He had told Dillon many times that if he had known what was wrong, maybe he could have prevented it.
"You can't prevent death, Steve," Dillon had told him. "It comes for all of us. No amount of knowing when or why can stop the eventuality of it."
Dillon and his wolf both mourned Steve, who had become a dear friend over the years. Dillon had known Steve wouldn't live forever, but even so, he was unprepared for this. He stepped back and sat down on one of the chairs that had been set out for guests, most of whom had already left. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths to get his emotions under control. He wanted to throw back his head and howl.
"Be at peace, my friend," he said softly. He continued to sit there, not paying attention to anyone who was left, even as the cemetery workers began to cover the casket with dirt. Life and death were so undignified. You enter the world naked and screaming and end it by being put in a box and covered in dirt. "Damn, Steve, this sucks."
"Did you know him well?" a woman's voice said from just to his right.
Dillon forced himself not to sigh and give a biting answer. Even after all the years he'd been in Coldspring, women still asked him out, though it was pretty well known in the small town that the guy who worked at Coldspring Feed Co-op didn't date. There was all kinds of speculation, from maybe he had a wife who died and he never got over her to the possibility that he preferred men. Some said he was celibate because of his religion, despite the fact that he'd never stepped foot in one of the churches. He'd been invited at least a hundred or more times over the years, but his creator wasn't found in a human church. And he'd been unable to bring himself to reach out to the Great Luna because of his anger.
Finally, when he was sure he wouldn't growl at the woman, he answered, "I did. Steve was a good friend."
She sat down one seat away, thankfully, and made a humming sound. "I knew him and his wife, Gladis." She chuckled. "They were a pair, but Steve was never the same after she died. I always thought he'd die of a broken heart. And I guess, in some ways, he did. A heart attack is essentially a broken heart. That's why I've decided that love sucks."
It was the first thing a woman had said to him in the past decade that he agreed with. Love definitely sucked. "Can't disagree with you there," he muttered.
"I'm sorry for your loss. The town won't be the same without either of them."
Dillon finally turned to look at the woman. Her gray eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She was lovely, in a very understated way. Perhaps it was because she was at a funeral, but she didn't have any makeup layered on her face or an excessive amount of perfume on her. Those were common themes with the women who came into the feed store, which annoyed Dillon and his wolf senses.
The woman's face flushed, and Dillon realized he had been staring at her without saying a word. He cleared his throat and introduced himself as a polite gesture. "I'm Dillon."
Her lips turned up slightly. "I know. You've been the talk of the town for quite some time. I get to hear all about you in the bookstore from the women who come in looking for a good romance to read."
Dillon rolled his eyes. "Don't believe everything you hear."
"I form my own opinions." She looked back at the grave.
Dillon glanced at her left hand and saw no sign of a ring to indicate she had a mate. Husband. He reminded himself that humans didn't call their significant others’ mates. He didn't see a tan line, either, indicating that she had taken off any rings. Her skin was smooth and unlined with age, suggesting that she was in her early twenties. He stared at her profile, noting her delicate features. She had brown hair that shimmered in the early morning sunlight, just long enough to brush her shoulders. Her jawline was soft and feminine, and her lips were not thin, but not overly plush. She had a cute nose that turned up slightly. He couldn’t help but find the woman quite lovely.
Her cheeks flushed even more, and Dillon forced himself to look away. She wasn't his true mate, yet he felt drawn to her. She was human, and he didn't sense any sort of gypsy healer magic in her. That was the only way a human could be mate material. He shifted in his seat and leaned a little closer, no longer looking at her, and took a deep breath. There was something different about her scent that he hadn't noticed on other people in town. Her perfume was messing with his nose, making it difficult to figure out what it was. That was intriguing, and even his wolf perked up. It was a hunt of sorts, and his beast loved a good hunt.
She started to stand, and Dillon reached up and touched her arm. "You never told me your name."
She smiled down at him. "I know."
Dillon couldn't help but let out a low chuckle. He memorized her scent as he watched her walk away without another word. She had caught his attention, and it had only taken her less than five minutes. Women had been coming into the feed store for a decade, but none of them had ever managed to make him want to take a second look. Yet this female had grabbed his attention with her gray eyes and understated beauty, not to mention her obvious compassion for Steve and Gladis. Dillon could see in her eyes that she was a genuine person. She was also quick-witted. For the first time in a very long time, he was interested in something other than work, killing coyotes, or shooting the breeze with Steve. He'd be able to find her easily enough, and that was the only reason he didn't follow her like a weird stalker.
Two days passed before Dillon finally gave in to his curiosity to find the female from the funeral. He had thought he would have to use his wolf senses, but then he remembered she had mentioned working at the bookstore. Considering there was only one in town, it wouldn't take a detective, or a werewolf, to hunt her down.
It was early evening, and he’d actually left work at closing time. He stood opposite the store, staring at Book Lover’s Den. He chuckled at the name. Wolves loved a good, cozy den. It was oddly appropriate. None of the sheep inside had a clue the big bad wolf was about to enter the store. Dillon shook off his ridiculous thoughts and walked across the street. It was early September, and the sun set earlier and earlier with each passing day. The lights inside the store lit up a large room filled with a rainbow of books. The shelves were no doubt packed with adventures, romances, and anything the human imagination could come up with. There would no doubt be a few books about his own kind, inappropriately filed in the fiction section.
Dillon pulled open the door, and the scent of books, perfume, and body odor overwhelmed his sensitive nose. He tried to restrain his wolf to prevent the scents from taking over. However, his inner beast was captivated by Dillon's thoughts on the woman. Dillon's interest in the female intrigued him, and he wanted to know more about her. As for himself, he found her attractive, which was surprising since he had never been attracted to a human before. Though he had noticed beautiful women, he had never been drawn to them beyond that. As he took a few steps forward, he caught her scent and followed it until he found her talking to a young boy in the children's section, where the tables were decorated with brightly colored books and toys. She spoke softly to the child and pointed at the book he held. The child smiled and hugged her before walking away. Dillon had the urge to follow the child and ensure his safety. Canis lupus pups were precious to the packs and so rare that they were always well guarded. The child was walking unattended through the store, oblivious to the possibility of an evil human taking advantage of him. Even after living among humans for so long, Dillon still found it strange how naive they could be about the dangerous world around them. He was about to step forward when he saw a woman emerge from behind a shelf and hold out her hand to the child, who took it without hesitation, speaking animatedly while holding the book.
“Dillon?” His name drew his attention away from the boy, and he looked at the female he’d been hunting. She wore jeans and a black shirt with the words Book Lovers Den across the front. She also wore a name badge that read, Lilly. A lovely name for a lovely woman.
“Hello, Lilly.” His voice held a slight growl that surprised him. He’d been victorious in his hunt, and regardless that he wore human skin, he was still a wolf and liked to find his prey. Dillon hoped the woman didn’t notice it.
